The boss and his employee
by CriminalConsultant
Summary: That was all Sebastian was, wasn't it? He was James Moriarty's sniper - nothing more. At least that's what Seb kept trying to tell himself to keep the feelings at bay. However, a series of curious jobs may cause him to reconsider his importance in the eyes of the world's only consulting criminal. T for slight gore.
1. Chapter 1

James Moriarty never answered the door. he never had a reason to. The only person he ever needed, or maybe wanted, in his flat already had a key. That was why when the pounding started on the door, Jim didn't move from his place on the couch. Instead, he interlaced his fingers and lay his head back on the arm. However, the incessant pounding continued and was soon accompanied by a voice.

"Jim! I know you're there!" it yelled, "Open the door! I left my key on the table!"

Jim sighed and swung his feet swiftly off the couch and made for the door. The pounding ceased as he whipped it open.

"I wasn't expecting you yet" Jim drawled

"Finished early" Sebastian Moran replied gruffly before entering the flat.

Sebastian walked past Jim and into the kitchen where he set the bag containing his rifle down on the table. Jim closed the door and joined Sebastian in the kitchen.

"It's done?" Jim asked

"I wouldn't be back here if it wasn't"

"clean kill?"

"only the best for you, boss" Sebastian replied sarcastically

Jim seemed to take that as an acceptable response and returned back to his spot on the couch. Watching some tedious newscast about some heinous crime that had undoubtedly been caused by him. After a minute he looked over to his sniper, bent over his gun, apparently cleaning it for the third time this week.

"I've got a job for you tonight"

"I figured" Seb replied, carefully stowing his rifle back in the bag.

Jim waited until Sebastian sat down across from him to continue.

"Tonight" he resumed, "David Rorik will be attending a gala for a cause I didn't bother to listen to. And naturally, I'm enlisting you kill him."

"Rorik?" the sniper repeated, "Name sounds familiar."

"As it should, his father is a client of mine."

"His father?" Seb repeated Jim once again, pieces slowly falling into place, "I take it you want to threaten him then? You want me to kill his son? Are you sure you want a kill, not just a bullet through the leg or something?

"No" Jim shook his head, "His death will be threat enough. I was feeling kind of dramatic, I wanted to go for the first-born son sort of thing."

Sebastian held in a laugh, of course Jim wanted dramatic. When was he anything but dramatic? He waited as Jim fished a folded up picture out of his pocket and passed it to Seb. Unfolding it, he could see that the name "David Rorik" was scrawled on the back in Jim's usual neat, loopy script. Flipping it over, he studied the picture of Rorik. He was fairly normal looking, no identifying features besides his very vivid, bleach blond hair. All the better for Sebastian, he would be easy to spot through his scope. Pocketing the picture in case he needed it for future reference, he turned back to Jim to get the rest of the details.

/ooo/ooo/ooo/

At eleven o'clock Sebastian was settled atop a building across from the place the gala was being held at. Flat on his stomach with his gun set up in front of him, he watched as the party progressed. Waiting was always the hardest part. Sure Sebastian was one of the most patient men you'd find for this type of job, but sometimes his finger itched towards the trigger. He knew right away this was going to take a while. The place was packed with people. Sebastian knew Jim didn't want any extra casualties, he wanted it just so. No matter, Sebastian wouldn't settle for anything less than a perfect shot for Jim.

Through his scope, Sebastian saw the briefest flash of that bright blond hair he was searching for. His shot obscured by an old couple striding to greet Rorik, Seb let his finger drop disappointedly off the trigger.

"First-born son?" He muttered fondly, "You ostentatious prat, might as well leave a calling card next time."

Shaking his head slightly, he eased up on the gun and resumed his search for a good shot.

Minutes turned to hours as Sebastian lay on the cold concrete, watching his mark mingle. He needed only a few seconds of the man alone to put a bullet between his eyes, but that was proving extraordinarily difficult. Rorik had no shortage of people wanting to speak with him, no lack of friends jovially clasping a hand on his shoulder. A little after one in the morning Sebastian fished his vibrating mobile out of his jacket pocket.

Have you finished yet? -JM

Not quite, bastard's too popular for his own good -SM

Hurry up, I'll expect you back at my flat after you're finished -JM

Sure thing, boss -SM

Sebastian groaned as his slid the phone back into his pocket. He didn't know how long this blasted party would last, nor when his opportunity would present itself. It was already late enough, having another job in the morning and his flat being an hour away didn't help at all. Sighing through his nose once again, he turned his attention back to the opposite building. Finding the man again was easy, his fingers twitched longingly towards the trigger, begging for a shot to present itself quickly. Sebastian thought about just packing up and heading home. However the idea didn't last long, as much as he didn't want to be at the receiving end of Jim's fury, more than anything he didn't want to disappoint the man. Over the time that Sebastian had been working for Jim he gained a fierce respect and a great devotion towards him . Sebastian would've almost called Jim his friend, maybe he would've been bold enough to strive for more than friendship, if he had any sort of evidence that Jim was capable of that kind of relationship. He had quickly become Jim's most trusted sniper, for all Sebastian knew he was the only person that actually called him by his first name and lived to tell. But Sebastian wasn't an optimist, he was a realist, and in reality Jim was his boss and he the employee. With that he grudgingly turned his full attention back to the task at hand.

The room was significantly less crowded than it had been a little while ago. Right now would have to be his best chance for getting a shot before Rorik himself actually left. Rorik was only accompanied by two other people. Sebastian idled patiently, aiming at his forehead, silently willing his companions to move a bit to the left.

Sebastian grinned broadly when they moved. Finally he allowed his finger to squeeze the trigger. He didn't stay long after that, only to make sure that his target had fallen - to make sure his shot was as perfect as he promised Jim. In moments the rifle was hidden in his bag again and Sebastian was climbing swiftly down the fire escape. He considered getting a cab to Jim's flat, but he decided he'd fancy a walk after being in one position so long - it was only a twenty minute walk anyway.

Sebastian consulted his watch as he approached Jim's doorstep. Ten past two, It had taken much longer than he would have liked. After groping around quickly for his key - which, to his credit, he did remember this time - Sebastian unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Jim was lying haphazardly across the sofa, the television screen, bright but muted, displaying some low budget horror movie, a magazine left open on his chest, and a cup of tea long since cold sitting on the coffee table. Jim tossed the magazine down as he swung his legs over the couch and automatically followed Sebastian into the kitchen.

"should I turn on the news?" Jim asked as he leaned against the counter

"Even they aren't that fast"

"you'd be surprised" Jim replied and they sank into silence once more.

Jim watched apparently disinterestedly as Sebastian pieced out his rifle and returned it to the cupboard housing numerous other guns with their corresponding ammunition.

"was it good?" Jim's voice broke through the early morning quiet once again.

"The best"

"I wouldn't expect any less from you" Jim offered a rare smile. Not yet genuine, nor particularly pleasant, more like sadistic but that suited him just as well.

That smile would unknowingly prompt Sebastian's next question. With his rifle carefully locked away and an awkward hand rubbing the back of his neck, Sebastian glanced once more at his wristwatch.

"Uh Jim?" he started cautiously, "It's kind of late and my flat's a good ways away - do you mind if I stay here for the night?"

He wholeheartedly expected his request to be denied, if Jim bothered to answer at all. With that said, Sebastian was a bit taken aback when Jim allowed him to stay.

"Oh thanks" he said, catching himself just before smiling, "I guess i'll just take the couch..."

"No, take my room" Jim offered, "I don't sleep"

"how can you not sle-"

"Too boring" Jim cut him off, "Why waste eight hours a day unconscious? now go before I revoke my permission"

Sebastian gratefully headed to Jim's bedroom. It was much nicer than Sebastian's back at his own flat. whereas his room was solely for functionality, Jim's was as decorative as you would expect from a man as cultured as he. Dark hardwood floors made the room seem cold, but at the same time gave it a crisp, clean look. The bed being the most prominent figure in the room, queen sized, with a large ornate black headboard. The duvet itself a sleek pattern of black and deep green. The bedroom also contained a large wooden dresser and an antique looking desk set off to the corner. Moonlight shone through the single window beside the bed, giving the bed a shadowy look. The room was painstakingly neat, even Jim's dressing robe had a precise spot on a wall hook with slippers sitting orderly underneath it. For a man that didn't sleep he had a grand bedroom.

Sebastian was wary of meddling with the unnatural clean of the room, but realized he was being moronic and was much too tired to be afraid of messing it up. He shrugged off his jacket and laid it over the chair before unbuttoning his shirt and placing that on the chair as well. With a glance to the door and a small internal argument, Sebastian unzipped his pants and tossed them to his other discarded garments. Climbing into the bed, it didn't take long for his weary body to find solace in sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Sebastian couldn't figure out why he had woken up. A quick look out the window confirmed it was still early in the morning, the first signs of the sun hadn't yet penetrated the darkness. Still Sebastian rose out of bed and quickly pulled on his pants before leaving the room, clumsily buttoning his shirt. From the hall he could hear the television blasting. It would seem Jim took it off mute some time during the night as it was now broadcasting infomercials painfully loud. He felt the urge to declare his presence, but bit back his words and continued silently to the living room.

Sebastian allowed himself a small smile at the sight that unfolded in front of him as he drew nearer. Jim had fallen asleep on the couch, one leg over the back of the sofa the other hanging off the side. His head laying uncomfortably on his shoulder and dangling from his hand was the cup of tea which had since been emptied onto the carpet.

"so much for not sleeping" Sebastian muttered as he took the cup out of the other man's hand and placed it down on the table, pausing to turn the television down.

After a moment, Sebastian figured that Jim would wake much happier if he was in his bed rather than contorted awkwardly on the sofa. Jim didn't stir as Sebastian picked up the consulting criminal. He vaguely wondered when the last time he slept was. He quickly lay Jim on his bed, grabbed his coat off the chair and closed the door behind him.

Catching his reflection briefly in the kitchen window, Sebastian absentmindedly tried to straighten out his shirt. A quick glance at the wall clock showed it only to be a little before six. Normally he was perfectly okay with little sleep, but he had an "interview" job in a few hours and those tended to require a bit of attention. Fortunately for Sebastian, he was wide awake at the moment and currently making a cup of tea in Jim's well stocked kitchen. Silently thanking Jim for his enormous sweet tooth, Sebastian uncovered a whole tin of assorted pastries and carefully selected one.

He relaxed on the sofa, reading the discarded magazine for slightly more than an hour when Jim came striding in. neither said anything until Jim had sat down with his own chocolate pastry.

"What time is your job today?" He asked.

"8:30"

"It's an interview, isn't it?" the beginnings of a twisted smile began to creep over his features, "who is it?"

"Jonathan Dent" Sebastian recited, "Munitions dealer, not very intelligent and normally not a problem, but he's threatening to double cross us and is refusing to hold up his half of the deal"

"I remember him" Jim said with slight disgust, "we don't need him anymore, get what you want and finish him, no need for loose ends."

/ooo/ooo/ooo/

Sebastian's job wasn't just about killing. There was always the right way to do something and the right time to do it. He valued his professionalism and promptness which was why at 8:30 Sebastian was stepping out of the car in front of a large warehouse. A younger recruit came hurrying over to meet him.

"Crane" Sebastian acknowledged with a tilt of his head, "I suspect everything is in order upstairs?"

"Just as you ordered, sir" Crane replied, "Can I ask how you're planning on going about this?"

"I have a few ideas, Jim has had some too."

"Moriarty, sir?" He looked quite uncomfortable at the mention of the name.

"yes, of course" Sebastian muttered offhandedly and left the recruit at the entrance to the warehouse.

Sebastian had to climb three flights of stairs before entering a large room surrounded by five of Jim's (and by association, his) men. In the center was an unconscious Dent strapped to an old straight-backed wooden wheelchair.

"how long till he's awake?" Sebastian directed the question at any of the five.

"Twenty minutes at the most, sir" The one closest to him answered.

Sebastian nodded slightly and swung his bag down off of his shoulder. Rummaging through, checking a mental list of things that could be useful at the moment. Unlike some of the other interviews, He didn't have to go about this delicately. Jim had given the order to kill, he need only find out whether Dent was lying about telling outside sources about Moriarty.

When he heard Dent stir, Sebastian selected a simple switchblade and strode over. Dent groggily raised his head to look at Sebastian who was idly flicking the blade out.

"good morning, Mr. Dent" Sebastian addressed him, "I do hope we didn't schedule this appointment too early for you."

Dent just shook his head violently, trying to wake his senses after his bout of unconsciousness. Sebastian was not phased by his lack of an answer, he knew he'd have him talking soon enough. He gave time for Dent to fully come to, he wanted him alert for this. Dent was a large man, not particularly fit for an arms dealer. Usually those dealing in munitions were fond of them themselves, but he didn't look like the kind of guy to have a gun hobby. He had greasy light brown hair and a pudgy red face. It would seem that he had been taken in the night as he still wore a stained white undershirt paired with discoloured red boxers. Sebastian walked closer to Dent, twirling the blade in his fingers, and crouched to be face to face.

"You know why i'm here"

"You're here because your boss told his pet to go out and play." Dent spat

"And play I shall" Sebastian chuckled.

He brought the knife up to Dent's cheek and pressed the cool metal against it, just barely drawing a small line of blood. Dent jerked backwards, but the restraints held him very much in place.

"Now, I do what I please" Sebastian whispered into his ear, "But you've gotta help me out here, Jonathan."

When Dent didn't reply, Sebastian whipped the blade down and struck Dent's middle finger. the blade stuck in the wood and effectively severed the bone in Dent's finger. He screamed in pain and struggled against the restraints.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" He yelled.

Unnervingly calm, Sebastian pulled the switchblade out of Dent's hand, watching as blood pooled around it.

"Now I know you weren't the most intelligent of them all, but the reason is so very _obvious_."

Sebastian could immediately tell that Dent had a very weak pain tolerance, with any luck he could be finished by lunch.

Dent forced a laugh as he struggled to meet Sebastian's eyes "You're afraid, you're afraid I told someone about you and your boss's deals."

"no no no," Sebastian replied, shaking his head for emphasis, "fear has no part in this, if anyone should be afraid, it is you."

"With a line like that i'm simply terrified"

Sebastian's lips curled into a twisted grin as he turned around suddenly and rummaged through his bag. He returned with a thin, sharp filleting knife in place of the old switchblade.

"You've got quite a knife collection colonel" Dent tried to sound unafraid but his voice faltered halfway through.

Sebastian stood behind the wheelchair, the man tried to look at him but again his restraints held him firmly in place. Sebastian said nothing as he swiftly brought the knife down in front of Dent and sliced the front of his right eyeball clean off.

Dent's screams of agony only intensified as the chunk landed on his lap. He waited patiently for a few minutes until the screams died down and only Dent's ragged breathing could be heard.

"You bastard" He gasped, his eyes blinking rapidly as if trying to feel the place where the piece had once been.

"no need for names, just tell me what I want to know" His voice contained no trace of humor anymore.

Dent was still breathing heavily with no obvious signs that he was about to answer Sebastian. He rounded the wheelchair so he was standing in front of Dent again. In one fluid motion he had tossed the filleting knife on the ground and produced the switchblade out of his pocket. Without warning he pushed the blade through Dent's thigh.

"Tell me." he growled as he turned the blade.

Sebastian had not expected any comprehensible words, only more screaming filled the room. He was no novice though, he would eventually get what he wanted and Dent would not leave here alive. He pulled the blade out slowly, running it down his thigh as he did so. The end result of that being the one gaping hole followed by a long, deep line of scarlet trailing down to his knee. Dent's breathing was quick and shallow, his eyes shut tightly. Seb knew he was almost there and lowered himself inches from Dent's face. He put his blade under Dent's chin and used it to lift his face towards him.

"Tell me Jonathan, and this can all end"

without waiting for a response, Sebastian sent the blade gliding up Dent's jaw line ending at his ear, which he promptly sliced off. Through more gasps of pain it seemed as though Dent was ready to talk.

"I didn't, I - I didn't" Dent gasped laboriously

"Didn't what?" Sebastian questioned slowly.

"Tell anyone" Dent practically yelled, "I only said that to get more money out of Moriarty!"

Such a long sentence took a lot out of Dent. He was back struggling for breath worse than before, the pain making him dizzy.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Dent"

"What, what... NO!" He suddenly realized how this was going to end for him.

Sebastian was intending on making him suffer longer, but that thought was cut short when his mobile vibrated. He could never get through a single job without being interrupted by Jim anymore.

**Finish fast, something more important has come up. -JM**

Sebastian quickly typed a reply and hid his phone away before addressing Dent one last time.

"It's your lucky day"

"You're going to let me live?" He asked hopefully.

Even if he had wanted to let Dent live, it would be unlikely he would even get medical attention before he bled out. Instead of answering Dent, Sebastian turned to one of the guards standing nearby.

"get the gasoline, torch this bastard"

The man nodded and hurried off to fulfill Sebastian's request. Sebastian himself shouldered his bag and wiped the blood off his blade. He turned around only when he could hear the screams again. A quick glance told him that the fire had started and was prepared to burn Dent alive.

"Don't forget to destroy anything that wasn't burnt to oblivion" Sebastian instructed Crane before getting in the car, "Don't need anyone identifying the body too quickly."


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Sebastian arrived at Jim's flat he was more curious than anything. Once the overall annoyance of being interrupted during the job faded he was left wondering what could be so important.

Jim wasn't sitting in his usual spot on the sofa when Sebastian entered, nor was he waiting in the kitchen. However, he paid no mind to his boss's absence and began the familiar task of replacing his weapons again.

"I wouldn't put those away if i were you" Jim was suddenly leaning against the wall.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow but said nothing as Jim sat down. He dropped a knife back in the bag and turned his full attention to Jim. Jim was obviously prepared for something, he had on one of his good suits and his favorite Alexander McQueen skull tie. It was clear that whatever this "important" matter was, Jim was going to be taking care of it personally- that fact alone was already intriguing enough for Sebastian.

"So what's this important job?" Sebastian finally humoured him.

"Ted Rorik didn't like our threat."

"I wouldn't think so, it may have something to do with the fact that we killed his son."

"No, that is incidental." Jim waved it off, reminding Sebastian vaguely of Dr. Hannibal Lecter, "by 'Didn't like' I mean it didn't work, Sebastian. no, i'd say we're past threats altogether."

"Fair enough, but his death occurred mere hours ago. Maybe it needs some time to sink in...?"

"Wrong again Sebastian, please, try to keep up. No, I don't believe him to be that kind of person. I'd say he's just realized he's in too deep, quite correctly. He'll try to avoid the inevitable, disregard the threats. Which is why we'll forgo them and confront him personally."

"Yes right," Sebastian was beginning to get slightly lost, "Do remind me what he's gotten too deep in and why you're making a house call?"

Jim sighed half heartedly, Sebastian knew that Jim liked his audience for these schemes though.

"Ted Rorik was a software designer, not the usual slimy black market dealers that tend to crop up in this line of work. Very much like the one you just killed, if i'm not mistaken. Rorik was more useful than the rest, but, of course, he turned. He was working on a computer virus intended to cripple video surveillance to the point at which it could take weeks to get them all online again - very useful. Due to some change of faith, once he finished he withheld the final product from me and threatened to take it to the government. Strange how working in the criminals side can unhinge a perfectly capable software engineer. Now I know he hasn't done anything with the information yet. He left a voicemail this morning, he didn't expressly say that he hadn't, but well it wasn't difficult to figure out. Though given time, he may end up carrying out his threat, which is why he will not be alive by the end of the day."

"Sounds straightforward enough, but you obviously don't just want a simple killshot."

A smile crept over Jim's face, "Ah, you were paying attention. No, I'm handling this personally as you pointed out earlier, and i'm taking you with me. I know you have a knack for torture."

Now it was Sebastian's turn to smile, as this may have been the closest thing to a compliment he had ever received from Jim. Sebastian was happy for a chance to work alongside his boss. One thing he liked about torture jobs were that nothing was clearly spelled out, there were no set instructions and he had creative reign. Unlike simple shooting jobs where he was only there for the kill, these jobs allowed him to connect with his ever-present sadistic side. Sebastian never saw Jim carry out one of these jobs, he knew Jim's wrath was legendary and he was quite eager to see it in action - though he tried not to look it. He leaned back lazily in his chair and listened to Jim's silky voice methodically lay out the rest of the details. Jim did this more for himself than for Sebastian, something about saying it all out loud made plans seem more concrete and organized. Sebastian didn't mind this at all, truly he enjoyed listening to his boss scheme, it was almost endearing to him.

He didn't fully notice that Jim had stopped planning, only when he registered that he no longer heard his voice did Sebastian look up.

"Are you ready?" Jim asked.

"Now?" Sebastian's eyes went from his watch to the fridge.

Jim sighed, "eat, be fast, then we're leaving"

Sebastian hopped out of his chair to scavenge for whatever bits of food he could find, downed that quickly, and followed Jim out to the car.

Jim didn't speak much during the car ride, he didn't even bother to tell Sebastian where they were going. He was used to that by now though, always travelling off to big empty warehouses or abandoned apartment complexes. This time it was the latter. They pulled to a stop in front of a big grey building, aside from a few loose shutters and some chipping paint the building looked fairly usable. Sebastian followed Jim through the front door of the place and up two flights of stairs.

"I'll tell you if I need you" Jim hissed into his ear, "you'll get your turn, I promise, but I'm handling things my way first."

Though Sebastian had never seen him on a job like this, he still had a few ideas as to how this would go down. Jim seemed to be the type to toy with his victims before finishing them, much like a cat stalking a mouse. Be that as it may, Jim certainly wasn't going to just talk to him, no, Jim liked the blood on his hands as much as Sebastian did.

Near the end of the hallway they came upon two of Jim's armed men standing in front of the door numbered "37". Jim raised an eyebrow to prompt a summary of the room they were about to go into.

"Your man, Ted Rorik, he'll be sitting in the middle of the first room, sir." The bigger of the two said, "He's conscious, we didn't mess him up too badly to get him here, it seemed like he knew we would come."

With an acknowledging nod from Jim, the man turned and put a key into the door and gently pushed it open. Jim turned around briefly to lock eyes with Sebastian before the both of them casually enter the room. Just as the man said, a very alert Ted Rorik was sitting in a wooden chair in the center of the makeshift living room. He wasn't strapped down too satisfactorily for Sebastian's taste, only has wrists and ankles were tied against the chair, giving Rorik that little bit of movement. He was smiling confidently, but his eyes told another story. Sebastian had not missed the wave of fear that crossed them when Jim entered the room. It must be some sight seeing Jim Moriarty walk into the room, Sebastian realized. Hardly anyone ever saw him, hearing his name was enough to terrify perfectly courageous men, hearing his voice enough to make them flee, but after you saw him face to face, you knew you were never leaving alive.

**A/N Sorry this wasn't as long or as detailed as I would normally like. It felt like a while since I updated and wanted to continue on with the story. I did have to cut it short because I definitely want to do the impending torture scene justice. Lastly thank you for following and favoriting, I really appreciate it :) Till next time. **


	4. Chapter 4

Sebastian stood off to the side as Jim circled the man. He made four full trips around the chair before stopping and facing Rorik. He watched him for a moment, causing Rorik to shift slightly against his bindings.

"It was nice of you to bring the flash drive, Ted" Jim said, "Though we could've avoided this if you gave it to me when I asked."

"You're mad, why would I bring it straight to you?" Rorik replied confidently, but his nervous glances toward Sebastian told another story.

Jim picked up on this easily, Rorik may be a good software designer but he was a terrible liar.

"You may have brought it in the hopes that this could end easily." Jim noted Rorik's flush, "but either way I can assure you it will not. I have nothing against you handing it to me or picking it off your lifeless corpse myself."

He bent down slightly to be eye level with Rorik and held his hand out to Sebastian who tossed his pocket knife to him.

"It's always more fun to start with the face." Jim twirled the knife around Rorik's nose, "You get to look them in the eyes as you proceed. It can really dictate how the rest of the time will go."

He slowly brought the knife down from his nose and slid it patiently around Rorik's cheeks until his face was hollow and red and mangled chunks of flesh fell sickeningly on the floor. Rorik didn't scream besides the initial gasp as the knife first pierced his skin. He just watched Jim intently, unknowingly fueling Jim's desire to evoke more pain. Sebastian saw it though, it was a simple flick of the tongue and a twitch of his hand to the pocket knife that showed Sebastian that Rorik was in for it.

Jim stood and resumed circling, as if trying to decide where to go from here. Before long, Jim was in front of Rorik again, still toying with Sebastian's knife. The gaping holes where Rorik's cheeks had been were still issuing a steady drip of blood as the man grew paler. Without even pausing to taunt, Jim drew up close to Rorik again. He swiftly jabbed the knife between Rorik's left shoulder blade. This time Rorik let out his first scream of agony, which Jim relished. With a sadistic look, he wrenched the knife still deeper, twisting it as he did so. Rorik's moans of pain excited Jim as he finally removed the knife as quickly as it had entered. The scarlet liquid seeping through Rorik's shirt until it mingled with the product of Jim's first ploy.

The blood didn't have long to pool before Jim was adding to the display. With a calculated flick of the wrist, another bloody gash appeared on Rorik's chest. Jim stepped back, looking at the drops of red that now adorned his own suit. As Sebastian saw his bloodied boss, he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. bloody spots showed up vividly on Jim's dark grey suit, even better on his white shirt. His hand dripped with the crimson fluid from where he grasped the knife. Sebastian had realized a while ago that he had a bit of a blood kink, but something about Jim sent him nearly over the edge. He swallowed thickly and hoped to conceal this nettlesome feeling.

Jim tossed Sebastian the knife, which he caught safely. Ultimately he had signaled that he was finished here and Sebastian could have his way now. Sebastian however, was in no mood for more torture now, unusual as that is. Though he couldn't say no as Jim passed him whispering "bowels in or bowels out".

Rorik was too out of it by now to fully comprehend what was going on. Though he was conscious, he was very much delirious. Sebastian didn't care, he made the neat, deep cut under the watchful eye of Jim and watched the reality slowly register in Rorik's face. As blood was not the only thing that spilled from the wound, Rorik was forced to watch as his own intestines slipped sickly onto the ground. With a kick, Sebastian knocked Rorik to the floor, face-first into the sea of blood and organs.

"The flash drive, Sebastian!" Jim called in reminder.

Sebastian wasn't exactly sure where he would find the flash drive, but he stuck his hand into multiple pockets before pulling it out of his right coat-pocket.

"very good" Jim simpered as Sebastian dropped the bloodied drive into his hand.


	5. Chapter 5

Once Jim had instructed his men to clean up the body, he and Sebastian were back in the car on the way to Jim's flat. Sebastian couldn't make eye contact with him, not while the spots of blood still adorned his suit. Instead he stared out the window and made noncommittal grunts every time Jim complained about said ruined suit or threw out more creative ideas for the next time they had a job of this sort. Torture definitely put Jim Moriarty in a good mood, Sebastian could see that. What he didn't see was his bosses covert glances as he started to realise that Sebastian's mind was elsewhere. Jim faded into silence until they were back at the flat, his mind already formulating 15 different possible reasons for Sebastian's apparent disinterest.

Inside, Seb made straight for the kitchen. Jim threw himself down on the couch, flicked on the television, and waited for Sebastian to inevitably bring in some tea.

"Sebastian?" Jim called into the other room after a moment.

"Hmm?" came a quiet response.

"You've got the drive?"

"Yeah" he replied as he entered the room, deftly tossing it to Jim while still carrying over the mugs.

Jim turned the memory stick over in his palm a few times before accepting the tea from Sebastian as he sat down beside him. Switching the drive to his right hand to accommodate the drink, he resumed flicking it over before tossing it down on the coffee table. Jim studied Sebastian up and down. He too had not escaped the ramshackle room without getting his fair share of Rorik's blood on his clothes. His hands were clean from where he had just washed them, but his forearms revealed the stains of dried blood. His black shirt succeeding at hiding most of the spots, but Jim could still pick them up. A red smudge ran up his thigh, while his shoes paid testament to the previous brutality as well. The sniper shied away from his boss's penetrating gaze, which did not go unnoticed. Jim never missed any detail, sometimes the conclusion could escape him for a while, but he always figured things out in the end. And now things were quickly whirring into place.

But what pieces were finally coming together? Jim thought this should be painfully obvious, but then why was he having such a hard time placing it? And why did Sebastian's uncharacteristic behavior stir some type of emotion within himself?

Jim wracked his brain trying to come up with the answer, growing more and more frustrated as time went on. He was by no stretch of the imagination oblivious, it was right in front of him, but maybe he just didn't want to know.

"No, that is painfully stupid" Jim thought to himself.

He watched as Sebastian casually sipped his tea, absentmindedly staring at the television. With a simple pang and the shudder of gears clicking quickly in his mind, Jim finally understood.

Jim grinned more to himself than Sebastian and set his cup on the table. "I should bring you on jobs more often, Sebastian. You're interesting."

"How so, boss?" Sebastian asked, still not meeting the man's eyes.

"Here I pegged you as the strong, loner type, but it seems you fancy me, Sebastian."

Sebastian head spun around to look at his boss, rambling incoherently about Jim being completely wrong. On a whim, Jim leaned forward and kissed his sniper on the lips. He felt Sebastian freeze, but surprisingly to Jim's relief, he began to kiss back. Shakily Seb tried to place his cup onto the table, sloshing a bit of tea on the carpet as he did so. His hands then rising to pull Jim closer and run his fingers through his hair. Jim's own hands clutching the front of Sebastian's shirt and running up his thigh respectively.

They separated moments later, catching their breath. Sebastian eyed him wildly, still not completely sure of what to make of it. He wanted Jim to have kissed him because he wanted to and not some sort of joke, but he could never just assume.

"Don't worry, that was all me, Sebastian" Jim said as he got up from the sofa and walked away.

He was relieved, but still confused though he didn't press. Instead, he too stood as carried the cups to the kitchen, vaguely hearing the shower turn on. He busied himself washing dishes as he tried to wrap his head around the events that just transpired. It happened too fast, Sebastian was sure of that. He also knew he wanted more. He caught himself smiling into the dishwater at the sheer ridiculousness that the most dangerous man in London had just kissed him. Sebastian had to stop thinking about it, it could only lead to trouble. But, god, it had felt so good.

Jim returned, wearing a fresh suit, and sat down at the countertop.

"You've got nothing scheduled tomorrow" he resumed, "But Thursday you've got an assassination. It's actually quite an easy job, shouldn't take too long. Hardly any waiting time, if I were you i'd just find him in an alleyway and stab him right there. There's really no use setting yourself atop a building for this one."

He passed a folder across the table which Sebastian picked up and sifted through. Man, late thirties, name of Ian Michaels. He was rather short with light brown hair. It appeared that he hadn't done anything horrible, so Sebastian figured that someone, somewhere, wanted him dead for whatever reason. He wasn't particularly concerned about the lack of details, the less he knew the better.

Sebastian nodded thickly and looked up from the papers to Jim.

"I think i'll keep you around for a while" Jim added almost fondly, "go home and get some sleep, i'll be here when you get back."

Sebastian dutifully complied, he'd had a hell of a day and couldn't wait to settle down back home. He left with a nod to Jim and strolled out the door.


	6. Chapter 6

Sebastian hadn't realized how truly exhausted he was until he slept for a full twelve hours straight - a big shock for the former military man. He stumbled off into the kitchen to make some tea, or maybe something a bit stronger. His eyes fell on the folder lying on the counter, immediately recollections of the previous day came flooding back. So much blood, so many people, so much_ Jim_. Seb pushed aside the memory of them kissing, he had already thought about it way too much. Analysed it into oblivion. His stubborn mind refused to leave it be and returned there at various points during the day.

He did what he always did when his mind was preoccupied - he cleaned his weapons. A lot of them were stored at Jim's flat, but Sebastian kept many of his favorites close to him. It worked for the most part, the thrill of the impending kill creeping up into him once again. It was one of Sebastian's guilty pleasures, essentially the reason that he was dishonorably discharged. People regarded it as a revolting trait, but really it was something more primal. There's something invigorating about the kill or be killed mindset.

Sebastian didn't kill to stay alive, rather he killed to live. It became his purpose in life, it became his hobby, his specialty, his obsession. It was the reason he was originally drawn to one James Moriarty. They met a few years back, Sebastian was tailing a man outside of London waiting for the proper moment to take his life. Seb hadn't been much of a hitman back then, he took a few odd jobs but he hadn't created a name for himself yet. His hand wrapped loosely around the knife in his coat pocket, his opportunity was drawing closer. He nearly had the man right where he wanted him when a figure stepped out of the shadows, drew a gun, and shot a clean hole through his targets head. Sebastian recoiled in shock and just watched as the figure approached him.

"James Moriarty" he introduced himself, swiftly replacing his gun to shake Sebastian's hand.

In those brief minutes in the alleyway, Sebastian had secured a job as Moriarty's sniper. In no time at all he would climb the ranks to become Jim's right hand man.

/ooo/ooo/ooo/

Come Thursday, Sebastian was lurking inconspicuously in his designated zone. He had yet to see Ian Michaels, but it was still early. He took a lazy drag from his cigarette before leaning against a wall more casually. No one paid any mind to Sebastian. Working in very public places had both its advantages and its drawbacks, invisibility being a nice perk.

It was surprisingly soon that Sebastian found Michaels. He was walking alone, another bonus, apparently muttering to himself animatedly. The mark weaved and bumped his way inelegantly through the crowds of people. He seemed ready to have a mental breakdown at anytime. Sebastian kept on his tail from a considerable distance. He wasn't afraid that he would lose him. Most civilians gave Michaels quite a wide berth, making him easy to spot when the crowd split.

Michaels eventually deemed it necessary to stroll down one of the side streets instead of taking the common way. Still keeping his distance, Sebastian sidled around the corner. He watched from his position as Michaels dropped to his knees, body shaking as he began to sob. Seb was confused, he'd admit to that. A job was a job, he didn't pity the target and he saw his chance.

"Hey mate, what's up?" Sebastian hurried to Michaels' side, feigning a concerned look.

His eyes went wide and he shot up quickly.

"Y-you! Stay away from me!" He whimpered, "You're here to kill me!"

"Now why would I do that? I think you're being a bit paranoid."

"Oh no, oh no! I know you!" now he was pointing and backing himself into the wall and he rambled - very unwisely if Sebastian might add.

Seb's patience was running thin, he sighed and buried his knife into Michaels' femoral artery.

"Wha-?" He sputtered as he fell back to a sitting position, clutching his thigh.

Sebastian only waited long enough to watch the man slip into death's grip then he hightailed it back to his flat.

It hadn't been one of his most rewarding kills. Quite honestly, Sebastian hated it when they groveled, it was very weak. One cannot beg for life, but embrace death. Life is limited, when it's time to die you mustn't be remembered as a coward.

Cowardice. Of cruelty, coldness, heartlessness, among other things, the worst thing a man could be was a coward. Sebastian loved his job, not only for the rush of the kill, but because he was one of few that got to see how humanity really was. He compartmentalized them into three groups: the cowards, the honorable, and the faithful. In their last minutes, the faithful would bow their heads, praying silently to whatever higher power they believed in. Sebastian could respect that, they accepted their fate, though not brave enough to face it on their own. The honorables were the type of men Sebastian met in the military. They knew death was inevitable, they didn't try to weasel their way out or desperately wish some god would take care of them. They understood and they didn't reject it. But the cowards, the cowards were men that Sebastian despised. Like Michaels they often fell to the ground, begging for mercy. They were the least likely to get any of Sebastian's very limited pity. If he wasn't in a rush and had the luxury of dragging out their death, he would make sure they knew just how much he hated them.

Once his head cleared and his knife replaced, he hailed a taxi to Jim's flat to alert him that the target was killed.

A quick knock at the door announced his presence as he slid the key into the lock. He entered to find Jim in the kitchen, sitting on the counter idly inspecting a cabinet.

"Something wrong?" Sebastian called curiously.

"No, no, I was just wondering if it was big enough to hold a body" he answered, hopping down.

"Don't start a collection now."

"I wouldn't put it past me." Jim shot back, "So I assume Michaels is dead?"

Sebastian nodded and took a seat, he was still a bit miffed at the groveling man but he decided not to bring it up. He was sure Jim would use it as an excuse to make another joke about his military discharge. Instead, he relaxed a bit into the chair and listened to Jim's voice. No matter how dangerous he knew the man to be, there was something about his voice the made Sebastian feel completely at ease.

He didn't realise how long they had been talking until Jim jumped up suddenly.

"I've got clients coming in half an hour!" he moaned.

Sebastian took this as a cue to leave and stood up.

"You could stay." Jim offered, "Having my sniper around may be a bit intimidating."

"Is intimidating the feeling you're going for?" Sebastian asked.

"Intimidating is always good."


	7. Chapter 7

So Sebastian idled by, Waiting by the couch while Jim buzzed about preparing for the impending "guests". He had never heard of Jim having guests, even if they were only clients. No one was ever allowed to even catch a glimpse of his private life, he was quite a secretive man to say the least.

Nevertheless, no more than twenty minutes later a knock came at the door. It was light and hesitant, Sebastian would've guessed a woman's. True to his nature, Jim didn't make a move to open the door. Instead he raised an eyebrow to Sebastian who sighed and unlatched the bolt. In came two people, a man and a woman, making Sebastian's assumption only half right. They were older than him by maybe ten years, both looking at their wits end. It was obvious that they appeared to be a couple that was completely out of options, not the usual caliber of criminals that Jim tended to deal with. Sebastian vaguely wondered what they had that could be of use to him. They hardly looked like the type to seek out any bit of interesting illegitimate information, merely it seemed as though they had stumbled upon something and were so horribly out of their depth as to turn to James Moriarty.

"Mr. Moriarty?" the man asked cautiously.

The man stuck his hand out and Jim strode in front of him, blatantly ignoring the appendage.

"ah, yes well then," He awkwardly lowered his hand and continued, "This is my wife, Margaret Pesten"

"Oh lovely, introductions. I'd much appreciate it if you quit wasting my time and got to the task at hand, Mr. Pesten." Jim snapped back, drawing out the man's name in mock respect.

"do you have it?" he asked Jim

"do you"

He glanced at his wife and she drew out a small brown sack from her handbag. The inconspicuous thing looked as if it could just as easily house a sandwich for lunch rather than whatever Moriarty was after. The bag was passed to Jim, who opened it, looking satisfied continued the meeting.

"I have what you requested in the kitchen, allow me to retrieve it. Sebastian" He turned now to the previously forgotten sniper and motioned for him to follow into the other room.

"So what've you got?" Sebastian asked once they were out of earshot.

"this" Jim held up the bag and slid a drawer open with his free hand, "now you have this, got it, tiger?"

The new pet name was enough to make Seb falter, but he still caught the steak knife that was lazily tossed in his direction.

"Don't get blood on my sofa." With that Jim was strolling casually out of the room.

"Jim!" Sebastian was calling after him, "what the hell am I supposed to do with the bodies?! How do you expect me not to get blood on your couch?!"

But Jim was gone, so Sebastian turned back to the living room with a wince. He was greeted by the horrified couple as his shouting had been not so subtle. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed, he almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of the entire situation. "Intimidation my ass" Sebastian thought to himself as he loomed over to the Pesten's to finish the job, "always a hit man, never changes." With a few slashes he was done, wasn't even too enjoyable this time, there hadn't been enough build up for his taste. He still didn't know what to do with the bodies, so he propped them up awkwardly on the stairwell and made a mental note to call moriartys clean up team. Thankfully he had done an impressive job keeping the blood of the sofa, only some spots on a throw pillow - really a feat to be proud of.

/ooo/ooo/ooo/

"Well I'm finished!" Sebastian yelled to Jim after he made sure the bodies were gone and all traces disappeared as well.

Jim was in his bedroom with his arms behind his head, staring intently at the ceiling apparently deep in thought. He didn't give any sign that he heard Seb, he just laid there as Sebastian grew increasingly frustrated with the maddening man.

"Well?!"

"I've made you angry, haven't I? Jim replied after a few more minutes.

Apparently the answer to that was yes. Even Sebastian didn't particularly know, at this point all he felt was a disorienting mixture of emotions that had been bubbling inside him for days. However, the easiest way to show this appeared to be anger. Jim slid of the bed in a quick fluid motion and was suddenly in front of Sebastian. Their height difference never made Jim any less intimidating. Intimidation wasn't one of the many things Sebastian was feeling at the moment, no, he was well past that at this point. Now, now he was crashing his mouth onto Jim's, forcibly with so much more passion than the first kiss had. Jim's mild confusion had melted into an intense longing as he pushed into Seb. He'd grown excited and impatient and his tongue flicked out over Sebastian's lips, begging for entrance. Sebastian had never been one to say no to his boss, his lips parted and Jim's tongue darted in. There was a small battle for dominance, but Sebastian never kidded himself into think that Jim would be submissive.

"You go blood on your jacket." Jim moaned as they separated for breath.

"But none on your couch."

Jim launched full force back into the kiss, his hands wildly pulling at Sebastian's hair as Seb's own hands found Jim's waist. In a few more rough, passionate moments, the pair found themselves on the bed.

/ooo/ooo/ooo/

Sebastian woke up the next morning utterly confused. As he recognized his surroundings memories of the previous night came flooding back. He rolled over on his side, Jim wasn't there anymore, but he was almost certain they had fallen asleep together. Thinking about it renewed the feeling of childish giddiness in the pit of Sebastian's stomach. He felt stupid, but thrilled and excited. All in all it was nothing he could explain, but he didn't feel like it suited him at all.

After laying around in bed for a few more minutes, Sebastian made his way to the bathroom to shower quickly before going to locate Jim.

Jim was sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through something on his mobile while disinterestedly prodding a piece of toast. He looked up as Sebastian entered, tilting his head up to allow Seb to kiss him. "So maybe it wasn't just a quick shag" Sebastian thought as he popped his own piece of bread in the toaster. As he sat down with his plate, Jim slid the phone across the table to him.

A picture, a woman no older than 25. She was blonde, but it was fairly obvious she dyed it. A small scar zigzagged across her chin which she desperately tried to cover up. The small caption simply stated that she had just arrived in London with her father.

"What do we have here?"

"She's staying here." Jim passed a heavily creased piece of paper over just as he had done with his phone. "You won't be able to get a decent shot through the window, none of the adjacent buildings are even remotely suitable for this. Reliable sources say you can always count on her leaving the hotel at the same time to head to the coffee shop at the corner of the street. I'd still shoot her if I were you, it's much less messy."

"And what time would that be?"

Jim glanced at his watch quickly, "You've got maybe an hour, more like 50 minutes."


	8. Chapter 8

With exactly 23 minutes to spare Sebastian was climbing out of his taxi at the designated spot. The once neatly folded paper was now crumpled up in his hand, forgotten after he had used the information. Sebastian had arrived a block away from the cafe with enough time to either get high enough to make a clean shot or enter the small coffee shop and blend in with the crowd. He hadn't brought his usual rifle, much too large, so a long distance shot was out of the question. His handgun was secured to his belt, extra clip hidden away in his back pocket if necessary. With that his maximum range could've maybe been 30-50 feet, depending on the conditions. Of course he had his pocket knife on him as well, but that was messy and Jim hated messes. Sebastian, however, was quite prone to coming back with blood on clothes, whether or not it was always his own is another matter entirely. He preferred to avoid getting bloody if at all possible today so strictly hand to hand was out.

In his contemplations he had already lost five minutes of his time. If he wasted much more time hand to hand would quickly become the only option. With that he swiftly rounded the corner building and pulled down the ladder of the fire escape. In a quick climb, he was up two stories. Perched easily out of sight of the commoners with a decent view of the cafe directly across the street. It was a small place, only about four tables with some high tops against the big windows. There were two ways this could go: the mark could sit at these high tops with only a window for the bullet to pass through before her brain or he could catch her as she left.

He waited, and with 3 minutes until the mark was scheduled to arrive he slowly unclipped the gun from the holster. He caressed it in his palm before raising it. From his spot he watched people flow in and out of the shop, carrying around various cups of overpriced caffeine. On cue, A blonde ponytail came bobbing into the cafe. We watched carefully as she waited in line to get her coffee then sat down at a table Sebastian couldn't see from where he was.

"Dammit" he sighed under his breath as he tried to shift positions.

He waited a few minutes, only able to catch a small glimpse of the woman's hair. Until she stood and he eased his gun to point at the coffee shop door. It swung open and he took only a second to correct his aim before pulling the trigger. In an instant the blonde was stained with red and she fell. Before her head hit the pavement Sebastian was jumping down the ladder, pocketing his gun and making his way back to Jim's flat. No one watched the tall blond leaving the scene as they were all too busy crowding around the dead one.

Sebastian entered the flat to find Jim sitting on the sofa, balancing his laptop on one knees with his mobile on the other. He was typing furiously, only stopping when his phone vibrated.

"I'm back" Sebastian announced walking across the living room to sit beside him.

Jim didn't respond, there was a nod, but his eyes refused to move away from the screen. Sebastian was tempted to lean over and steal a peek at what he was doing, but something told him that Jim wouldn't appreciate that. Eventually he started getting into the program that was playing on the television, even Jim's rhythmic clicking as he typed away at the laptop became oddly soothing. It was a strange feeling being so at ease as he relaxed into the couch. A feeling which intensified as he felt Jim shift over to lay his head on Sebastian's shoulder.

/ooo/ooo/ooo/

Somehow that night, Sebastian once again found himself in the bed of James Moriarty. He found himself engaging in said nighttime activity quite frequently over the course of the week. As time passed, changes were evident. Business progressed as usual, but any free time was far more likely to be spent enjoying each others company now rather than obsessively cleaning weapons or consumed in a computer screen.

A month later, they both found themselves sprawled out on the couch with absolutely nothing to do. Today there were no murders that needed arranging, no pressing forgeries, no pesky robberies, and not a single relocation. It was simply a lazy day, not something that happened often but something they sorely needed.

Jim was curled up on Sebastian's chest, languidly flicking through channels, all the while muttering about the awful programs. Seb laughed lightly as he rearranged the pillow behind his head. All this boring, ordinary monotony, he was hardly able to believe that Jim could stand it. He always had a little nagging feeling at the back of his mind that this couldn't last. But for now, why the hell shouldn't it last? There was nothing "normal" about either of them, their relationship could hardly be considered normal either. So instead of dwelling on that he resumed wondering when the best time would be to jump the criminal and fuck him senseless...again.

God he loved the sex, almost as much as he loved Jim. Yes, he had finally admitted it to himself the he was in love with Jim. He must have known it for a while, it only took the physical part of their relationship to make him realize it. When he had realized it though, he was nearly blindsided by emotion. Post-coital they had both been lying intertwined on Jim's bed. Blood was slowly staining the sheets from their newfound penchant for knife play. Sebastian had been utterly exhausted, fondly carding his fingers through Jim's hair when he realized he would be more than content if he never had to move. He never wanted to leave Jim's side whether it was in bed or in the battlefield. Nothing in the world would make him leave the man. The feeling shook him for a little, never had he felt such total devotion. Quite frankly it scared him at first, even now that he had gotten used to it he was still amazed.

Jim had given up on watching anything and instead retrieved his laptop from the kitchen table. Sebastian vaguely missed the warmth on his chest as he pulled himself to a sitting position.

"I thought you didn't have any work today" he called as Jim returned

"Work is a very loose term, seb"

"You know what I meant"

"I'm just checking my email, promise I won't run away to blow up South America today"

Sebastian just raised an eyebrow but said nothing as Jim rejoined him on the couch.

"The personal blog of Dr. John H. Watson?" He asked curiously as he saw the vaguely familiar green background fill Jim's screen once again.

The only thing more annoying than reading about the good doctor and his flamboyant flatmate was when Jim was toying with Molly from the morgue. Her blog had easily been the most sickening thing he had ever seen. The whole site was hideously pink with pictures of cats everywhere. However, it was occasionally enjoyable to watch Jim have to stare at the screen to try and come up with a reply that made him seem both idiotic and interested.

Now Jim was typing furiously, hacking into John's blog and posting a video.

"When did you film that? What is it anyway?"

"The game, Sebby" Jim muttered

"I thought you already had your game? I distinctly remember running around London planting enough explosives to level a small city."

"That was the beginning."

"then what's this?"

"The end"

Sebastian swallowed thickly, the statement sounded horribly finite. Even at the pool all those months ago, he was terrified that Jim could've gone too far. He had a knack to go all or nothing, it always either amazed Seb or scared him shitless. It was difficult caring for a man who in his own words was "so changeable". In an instant Jim's air of seriousness was gone as he shut his laptop and leaned over to kiss Sebastian; who reciprocated as he drew Jim in closer and they returned to enjoying their gloriously lazy day.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Finally I got around to finishing this chapter! I was having such a hard time writing this, it did end up being shorter and faster than I would've really liked. I wanted to put something like this in the story line somewhere but I had a difficult time finding somewhere to slide it in. Anyway, I present to you chapter nine. Thank you to everyone that favorited/followed.**

Days had passed and the incident with John's blog was completely out of his mind. To be fair it hadn't bothered Sebastian all that much, Jim did a lot of things and Seb hadn't the slightest inkling of where this would lead.

As of now he was lying in bed, head spectacularly clear, with the consulting criminal on his chest. Jim had been a bit high strung and jumpy the past few days and, quite honestly, Sebastian was happy to see him at ease.

Jim stirred slightly as he felt Sebastian move underneath him and nuzzled his head into Seb's neck. This short period of semi-consciousness in the morning was some of Sebastian's favorites. Curled up against each other lazily with no real need to speak and no desire to move. It was oddly comforting to them both.

A bit of time past and Sebastian's begrudgingly nudged Jim awake.

"I'm going to make some breakfast." He whispered as he extracted himself from Jim's grip.

He heard a murmur of assent as he pulled on his clothes and set off for the kitchen.

/ooo/ooo/ooo/

Sebastian returned to the bedroom a little while later, carrying two cups of coffee and scoffing at the figure still collapsed on the bed.

"Come on" Sebastian prompted as he sat down on the foot of the bed, "it's late enough and I thought you never slept."

He could vaguely make out a few choice curse words as Jim righted himself and scooted over to Sebastian. Accepting the mug he made sure to inform Sebastian to never wake him again if he valued his life.

Back in kitchen, Sebastian snuck a few glances at Jim over his coffee. It was almost funny to watch, nearly the picture of normality. No laptop or mobile in sight, instead Jim was idly flicking through the paper.

"Dammit Jim, we look domestic. Can you imagine that? Us." He joked.

"We're not a domestic couple, Seb." His tone pervaded seriousness, but he did not look up from his reading.

Against his better judgement, Sebastian was unable to drop the jest entirely, "Well sure we aren't the type to pop down to the theatre or take a stroll in the park, but it's pretty much the same idea. We just run a criminal empire and commit murders together."

"We? The last time I checked people feared Moriarty, not Moran."

"Yeah, it's your name on the door. You've become, as they call you, napoleon of crime or the most dangerous man in London. Whereas i've dutifully become your right hand man, Jim. From best sniper to, well, you know. Did you ever wonder what it'd be like if things were different?" Sebastian finished with a smirk that was completely unreciprocated.

It took a second to tell that Jim wasn't playing. His eyes had hardened and were now boring into Sebastian. His paper was moved to the side, as he spoke his voice shook ever so slightly making Sebastian shift his weight from one foot to another nervously. Jim was edgy again.

"You're standing in my life's work. This is my legacy. It's my name and that will die with me not you. I don't work with domestic, it's dull and tedious. I've spent years becoming the ghost of whispers, the unspoken name. psychopath so be it, I won't stop until I WIN. You're happy playing second fiddle to me, I would expect nothing less. Recently i've become accustomed to your companionship more so than I believed possible, but that doesn't stop any of this.

"Nothing stops. You know that. I could never ask you to stop, Jim. I just wanted to join you for the ride." It quickly became apparent to Sebastian that he had just unwittingly unleashed whatever had been bothering Jim for the past few days. However curious he may have been was irrelevant as he couldn't help but be concerned as to where this was going.

"Never once have I felt any guilt or remorse for what i've done. I've never felt out of place in my own maddening mind. This mangled web of blood i've weaved, with myself crowned king of death. It's enthralling and beautiful, but corrupt and vile from an outside viewpoint. The thing is, no one ever sees it all. their tiny minds never connecting point A with point B. What am I? When I'm dead what will I be? Fallen from grace or still the most dangerous man in London! What's in a name, long forgotten?"

"I'm in as deep as you."

"Get out while you can, Sebastian. It's a hell of a place down here.

"You know i'd never."

Jim leapt from his chair, letting out an anguished cry as he paced the room with his hands in his hair. "Did you ever wonder why I hired you Sebastian?! Did you ever wonder why I let you in? why I let you closer than anyone? Because I liked you Sebastian! Me! Something so trivial. Now i've gotten what I wanted didn't I Seb? Damn if i didn't want this because no matter how hard i've tried to convince myself otherwise I know what I wanted. I just can't have it. I know you'd never leave just as well as you know that you ought to do exactly that. It's no good though, it can't end well. I've been damned since the beginning because there's never any peace for bad men."

"I never asked for peace, never wanted it. We picked our sides and hell if i'm changing now. There was never any turning back once I fell in love with you."

"And somehow, Sebastian, I'm capable of loving you too." With that he sunk down on the sofa and ran his hand through his hair once more.

Sebastian sat down beside him and watched the man. He wanted badly to reach out and hold Jim, give some sort of reassurance, anything. But he knew he shouldn't, and this time he listened to his instinct.

"What did you get into?"

"The game."

"Let me play."

"Are you sure?" Jim asked as he met Seb's eyes for a long moment. Everything Sebastian wished to show with a touch was there, open and bare, in Jim's eyes.

"Of course."

"Meet me at St. Bart's tomorrow." Jim replied, letting his eyes fall as he kneaded his hands.


	10. Chapter 10

That morning Jim was pacing the flat excitedly, going over plans again and again more for his benefit than Seb's. Sebastian himself lingered over his weapons cabinet, trailing his finger along idly before selecting a rifle and packing it away in his bag. He closed the cabinet quietly, pausing to watch Jim walking back and forth nervously.

"Should we be going?" he asked finally.

Jim stopped his pacing to eye the sniper curiously before nodding. All of Jim's previous energetic attitude had faded in seconds, causing Seb's surly attitude to falter. The cab ride to St. Bart's remained concerningly silent. Sebastian's move to grasp Jim's hand went unresisted.

By the time they reached the hospital Sebastian was feeling very uneasy over the entire job. He had absolutely no reason to think this job as different other than Jim's mannerisms; To that he had to admit that Jim was an odd man anyway. But as he followed Jim up the concrete stairs of the building, he just couldn't shake away his nerves.

After far too many flights than he would care to remember, Jim stopped abruptly and pointed Sebastian to the window.

"Is that good?"

Seb unlatched the window and swung it open easily. Sticking his head out he could see no posts, adjoining buildings, or otherwise bothersome bits of architecture that might get in his way. He was left with a perfectly unobscured view of the streets. With a murmur of assent, he turned back away from the window. Jim was checking his watch, taking turns glancing out the window and up at the ascending flights of stairs.

"Right then. You'll be waiting here to shoot the doctor should Sherlock refuse to jump." Jim repeated from his planning back at the flat.

Sebastian offered no reply and Jim left. He had climbed only five stairs before he spun back around to look at Seb, opening his mouth once to say something but immediately thinking better of it. They watched each other for an extra moment before Jim jumped down the stairs and pressed himself into Sebastian. Lips radiating need and desperation. Sebastian clung to him for longer than strictly necessary but neither complained. They let each other go tentatively and Jim bounded up the stairs again.

"Jim!" Sebastian called, mentally kicking himself for this childish need, and Jim paused halfway up the flight, "I love you."

"I love you too" he called back, leaving Seb to listen to his footsteps disappear above.

/ooo/ooo/ooo

Then there was silence. Just a goddamn soul sucking silence. Sebastian hadn't heard anything since the gunshot. The gunshot he wished more than anything came from his own gun intended for John Watson. Instead he now was forced to climb those stairs and find what was left of the actual recipient.

He couldn't feel himself as he disassembled the rifle and shoved it unceremoniously back into his bag. For a fleeting moment he wanted to just run back down and out of the building, leave whatever waited for him on the roof alone. despite that, he trudged slowly up and up until only a door lie between him and what he was sure would destroy him.

Seeing was infinitely worse than imagining. As the door flew open Sebastian felt his knees buckling. Jim lie face up, morbid grin across his face, with a grotesque little river of blood spilling from a hole in the back of his head. Somehow he made it next to Jim before collapsing to his knees. Tears burned at his eyes but were denied the right to fall. He reached forward and took Jim's still warm hand in his own.

"Dammit Jim, dammit dammit." He whispered, unsure of what else he was supposed to say to a corpse, "Why, just why?!"

Sebastian rose to his feet suddenly and paced the rooftop. His hand ran shakily through his hair and he walked over to the edge of the building. Looking down he saw Sherlock's own body bleeding and broken on the pavement. People were quickly crowding around him and Seb noticed the doctor running to his side. Somewhere deep inside him, Sebastian realized this was how he had to be. They both had to destroy the other for no one else could. In a moment of self pity. Seb realized that Jim was the only man who could destroy him too.

He sat back down beside Jim and took his hand one last time. He hadn't the slightest idea of what he was doing, but he couldn't bear to leave Jim's side after staying there for so long. Sebastian was utterly broken, more so than he ever imagined was possible. He couldn't tear his eyes from the body, he couldn't think yet a million thoughts ran through his head.

Nearly a half hour passed before Sebastian's senses came back. He couldn't stay here, he was stupid enough to remain this long. The only problem was the Jim. He didn't want to leave him here, but surely if he carried him down someone would notice. Resolving to come back for him as soon as he could, He ran down the stairs without another look back.

/ooo/ooo/ooo/

At the flat something had clicked with Sebastian. He made a phone call and ordered Jim's body to be picked up before dropping down onto the couch. He couldn't help but look around, at the spot Jim paced just this morning, right here on the sofa where they had kissed. Even small things like Jim's cold mug of tea that he left on the table because he would always move on to something else and forget about it. His laptop in the kitchen hurt him the most. The laptop, his constant companion in plotting his own death. At that point Sebastian couldn't help it, he cried. He threw the mug off the coffee table and sobbed into his hands. He stumbled his way into the kitchen and sat down in front of the laptop. It was password protected, Seb had expected as much. He adopted the less methodical tactic of typing in random words that seemed to be important to Jim. He tried the usual things, though he knew that wasn't Jim. He tried ridiculous things, maybe 'Westwood' or 'semtex'. At one point he even fooled himself into thinking that it might have been his own name. As he was about to give up, he tried 'Sherlock' and the screen blinked to life. It made him feel hollow, yet he pressed ahead. Jim's laptop was almost completely wiped clean. The internet history showed only John's blog, Sherlock's blog, and his own email all spaced within an hour. His documents proved blank, save for a few write ups of old jobs nearly months ago. Sebastian found mentions of himself in some of them. Mentions that grew increasingly frequent as time went on. Somehow that only hurt him more. He stumbled upon an untitled document written around the same time as the internet history showed that simply said "I'm sorry".

Reduced to tears again he slammed the laptop shut and lay his head down on the countertop. He wished he could stop thinking. To stop remembering Jim's body, to stop remembering how it felt to have Jim alive and with him. He wanted it to stop hurting, but it wouldn't. He couldn't stop thinking about how Jim might have been the only person he cared about. He couldn't stop thinking about how he was certainly the only person he ever loved.

Distantly he heard his phone ring and he groped around his jacket pocket to retrieve it.

"Hello?" he answered

"Sir, It's about that body you asked us to get."

"Jim?"

"Yes, Mr. Moriarty. It seems the body is no longer here."

"What do you mean it's no longer here? In my experience dead bodies don't get up and walk around!"

"Yes, well, are you sure the police didn't get here before us?"

Instead of replying Sebastian tossed the phone at the wall. It had only been about two hours, the police had to still be working out Sherlock's suicide. They couldn't be back at St. Bart's yet. He sighed and buried his head in his hands again. He was too worn, emotionally and physically, he just didn't know anymore. He didn't even have a body to bury now, hardly a worthy send off. Vaguely he wondered where Jim did end up. He didn't even know what he hoped had happened to his body.

It was too much. He needed time. He needed Jim.

* * *

**And finally I give you the final chapter. Admittedly it did take much longer than I had anticipated, but I hope you guys like it. I'm seriously considering writing a sequel mainly because I am still in denial about Jim's death; Plus I did rather leave it open. **


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